


Solidarity

by grelleswife



Series: Kuroshitsuji Role Plays [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Collaboration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Pronouns for Grell Sutcliff, Genderfluid Character, Other, Trans Female Character, they/them pronouns for Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24021565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: Grelle comforts Sebastian when the demon feels trapped and frustrated in their human form.Written in collaboration with bapydemonprincess on Tumblr
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Grell Sutcliff
Series: Kuroshitsuji Role Plays [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730281
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Solidarity

**Author's Note:**

> This is an edited version of a role play co-written with bapydemonprincess on Tumblr and is reposted here with permission.
> 
> Since we both headcanon Sebastian as genderfluid, we wanted to explore the dysphoria the demon might experience from being stuck in a single shape for an extended period of time. Please keep that in mind if such content is triggering for you!
> 
> Sebastian's feeling more ambiguous than usual in the oneshot, hence the use of they/them pronouns.

"I think I know how you feel now, Miss Sutcliff, being trapped in a body you do not like for so long. It's torturous. I—I really have grown weary of this…Though I continue to try my best not to show it. It is good, though, to have you here, to help me get through it... _rufina_."

“Oh darling Sebas…aren’t we a pair? Not being able to show one’s true self to the world is a terrible burden. But at least we’re not alone anymore. I have your shoulder to cry on, and you can find refuge in my arms. I’ll always see you for who you are, my Sebastian.”

The demon had stayed right behind her the whole time, and in the darkness where they thrived but could also feel safe in certain situations.

Sebastian felt heat in their face, in this human mask they had worn for much too long. Sometimes, they swore it felt more intense with only human skin. Like how Grey’s stabbing that night at the manor had felt much more severe than if the other butler had done it to the demon in their original form. So much was there, in the way. Organs and muscles and all that…

But back in the present, the demon let out a soft sigh.

Finally, late at night when no one else was awake except for the demon and reaper, they could step forward like this, out of the shadows, under the moon, and wrap arms that turned from dark jacket sleeves to smooth ebony around the red reaper.

“And I see _you_ , my gorgeous red lady.” The demon spoke softly, voice going so quiet and tender, very unlike the low growl they usually had in this form.

Grelle tried not to show it, but she was growing more worried by the minute. Sebastian’s confidence (often bordering on arrogance) had never wavered like this before. He usually seemed comfortable in his elegant disguise, wearing it with a pride and satisfaction that came from the knowledge of his own beauty.

However, the voice speaking to her now sounded weary and vulnerable, all the more so as Sebastian reverted to their true form. Normally, the demon only discarded their glamour in bouts of anger or passion. Were they that desperate for relief? Grelle felt a brief pang of envy at Sebastian’s ability to change their appearance in ways that she never could, but it dissipated when she turned to look into those tired, sad eyes. She nuzzled the demon before bestowing a kiss on their cheek.

“Is there anything I can do to make it hurt less, darling? Heaven knows you’ve helped me through plenty of dark days…it’s the least I can do.”

Wings rolled out of the darkness. Shimmering in the brief glimpses of moonlight amongst the leaves of the trees, making black feathers look almost like scales. They moved slowly because of their mass, but eventually circled the reaper further, making up for how much the demon’s arms could not cover in this form.

“This is enough for me for now, _rufina_ …I know even you have limits… And I am grateful for what you give me in these moments.” Their voice sighed out, but shifted into a rumbling purr. It wasn’t as loud and powerful as it could get when Sebastian let themselves make such a noise, but it was clearly trying.

Pure black fingers carefully glided through long ruby strands of hair, as the motion itself was relaxing, too.

Those slit-pupiled eyes shut, and the demon lowered their head further, bending their taller form to do what they really wanted—nuzzling into Grelle’s neck and breathing in her gentle scent.

Everything about Grelle Sutcliff had become like a personal escape. Ironic for a demon who devoured human souls to find refuge in the arms of a grim reaper who was supposed to do the complete opposite to those same souls. To ferry them on to their next destination. Keep them safe, especially from such a hellish beast.

But no, here and now, nothing about souls and rules mattered. No difference between these two beings were brought up. All that came into play was what they could provide for each other.

And the lady reaper provided plenty with just HERSELF being there in that moment for the demon.

“Perhaps…even if you cannot truly foresee the future, you could tell me, my lady, do you think possibly…a day will come where I will be free, you will be free, and we may… just….” Their eyes opened up and peeked up from pitch black eyelashes to look into her green gaze, “... be together?” they whispered out. Almost sounding scared. As if daring to ask such a thing would actually curse them both to only receive the opposite. Not like Sebastian would be surprised if it did. A demon automatically brought doom and gloom to everyone. Including themselves. That was how things worked.

Grelle sank into Sebastian’s warmth, embraced within the demon’s shadowy wings. A goddess finding solace in a demon’s arms—wasn’t that the ultimate paradox? But here they were. A creature more spirit than substance remained by her side where former beaus had spurned her or discarded her like a damaged toy. Those devilish eyes saw Grelle for the woman she truly was. The reaper wasn’t the sort to plan for the future; she preferred pouring all her passion and energy into the moment at hand. That was where the action lay! And she didn’t particularly want to dwell on what might become of this strange new love after the contract. When demons concluded their business on Earth, they vanished, retreating to the hellish depths from which they’d sprung. That was simply the way things worked. Deep down, however, she nurtured an infinitesimally small hope that Sebastian would defy their aesthetic and _stay_. A lady did grow tired of being left (so very, very tired).

Free to be together. Without pretexts or others’ expectations to constrain them. Grelle had spent decades chasing the hope of acceptance with no strings attached. Did Sebastian long for the same thing?

“I believe it, darling,” she declared, her voice ringing with conviction as she pressed her cheek against Sebastian’s. “Whoever, _however_ you want to be, I shan’t leave you.”

“Even if I am a shifting thing that defies classification? And my ‘self’ is utterly alien to the butler you first met?”

Tremulous, fragile.

Impulsively, Grelle pulled them down to the ground so that they knelt together, in order to hug the demon more tightly.

“You’re my little Sebas, and I love you. That’s what really matters. The rest is just minutiae.”

They keened softly, and their wings ruffled and fluffed up around her.

And Grelle Sutcliff saw, just as the demon turned their head away, still keeping it close but not looking any longer, the sparkle in the moonlight, of…water…TEARS...escaping their eyes and rolling down black skin.

“Shush, my dove.”

She cradled their face between her hands and kissed their tears away. “My love’s not so shallow that it hinges on your outer trappings. It’s an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.”

Sebastian purred softly, staying close to the reaper. Not wanting to be anywhere else in the universe at this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken: from William Shakespeare's Sonnet 116:
> 
> "Love is not love  
> Which alters when it alteration finds,  
> Or bends with the remover to remove:  
> O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,  
> That looks on tempests and is never shaken;"


End file.
